Downton Academy: A Prequel
by chelsie fan
Summary: Charles Carson and Elsie Hughes run a traditional school in Chicago. This is the story of how they got there.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N Looooooong (but necessary) A/N. Apologies in advance.**

 **So I had a crazy idea: a modern Chelsie AU fic in an academic setting in the US. I pictured Mr. Carson and Mrs. Hughes running a typical, classic, traditional British-type school here in the states, but I was afraid it might be too far-fetched. I figured that type of place would never exist. Imagine my surprise when I discovered that such schools do indeed exist, and one of them is really close to home! So I ran with it.**

 **This chapter is essentially an introduction to the main story, which will appear in December. The chapters after this will be flashbacks to various events in the past which tell the story of how our beloved couple came to be at Downton Academy. This prequel wasn't originally supposed to be a story in its own right, but as I tried to develop an airtight, ironclad backstory for the sake of my sanity, this part of the story became extremely detailed and took on a life of its own. I thought I might as well share it with you. Before we get to the backstory, however, I wanted first to let you know where we're headed, and so this chapter sets the stage. Nothing terribly exciting happens yet, but this should give you a little taste of what we're leading up to. And of course, the main current-day part of the story, with its Christmas theme, will come in December.**

 _Downton Academy, Chicago; September, 2015_

The hallways, offices, and classrooms teemed with activity. Receptionists greeted visitors and answered telephones. Teachers paged through notes and checked laptops. And students chatted excitedly at lockers while arranging belongings in backpacks.

A friendly woman's voice came through the speakers and rose over the din. "New students, please report to the assembly hall at this time. All others, please report to your homerooms."

A bell rang, and students scurried off in all directions.

The new students filed into the assembly hall and took their seats. A stylishly-dressed, attractive woman in her early fifties stood at the podium and waited until the crowd quieted down before beginning her welcome.

"Good morning, ladies and gentlemen, and welcome to Downton Academy. My name is Ms. Hughes, and I'm the headmistress for girls here at Downton. To my right is Mr. Carson, who is the headmaster for boys. He'll speak to you in just a moment.

"Right now, I'll give you a brief overview of how things work here. As you've discovered by now, some events, such as this little welcome, will be coeducational, and others will be gender specific. Ladies, when an activity involves only girls, you'll find me overseeing it. Gentlemen, Mr. Carson will handle the occasions which pertain to boys only.

"While the majority of our students hail from the US, many of you come from abroad: Europe and even other places around the world. We have a thriving exchange student program, and you'll have the opportunity here to be exposed to many different cultures. We truly are an international school.

"Now, some of you will be boarders who will stay in our dormitories; and others will be day students, who will go home each evening. Our day students and boarders will have plenty of opportunity for interaction with each other, and previous students have enjoyed a warm camaraderie. We expect a friendly collegiality among you _all_.

"You'll have noticed that you are now in the 'secondary' wing of the building, for years seven through thirteen. The younger students are on the other side. We expect all of you to set good examples and to be perfect role models for our primary students.

"I'm going to introduce some of our staff members who are here this morning. Mr. Molesley, in the front row, there, is the housemaster for the boys, and Miss Baxter, next to Mr. Molesley, is housemistress for the girls. Mr. Molesley is also our Physical Education instructor and cricket coach, and Miss Baxter serves as our college, university, and career counselor, as well. Miss Smith, to my left, is in charge of our commuting students, and she's our school's personal counselor. Mr. Bates, next to Miss Smith, here, is our Dean of Students. And Mr. Barrow, on the end, whom most of you have met, is our recruiter and admissions officer.

"Now that I've filled you in on some practical aspects, I'll ask you to give your attention to Mr. Carson, who is going to tell you a little bit about the history of Downton."

Ms. Hughes stepped back, and a tall, broad, impeccably-dressed man in his late fifties assumed his position at the lectern.

"Downton Academy was founded twenty years ago by British business magnate Robert Crawley, of the esteemed Crawley family, and his American wife, the former Cora Levinson, of the well-known Levinson family. The couple moved from England here to Chicago in the early 1990's and could find no suitable school for their young daughters. The Crawleys saw it as their duty to establish a traditional, British-style school for their girls to attend, and the institution they founded is the school in which you now sit.

"Mr. and Mrs. Crawley bought this property, commissioned the buildings, and recruited the best staff from across the UK to fill the halls, classrooms, and offices. Then they recruited the best students from the US, the UK, and around the world. Our staff size has roughly doubled since we opened our doors in 1995, and our student body has nearly tripled in that time. We've had our alumni go on to the best colleges and universities around the world, and ultimately, they've enjoyed illustrious, prestigious careers. We're very proud of our reputation and legacy.

"The instructors here are a great staff, and Downton is a great school. We live by certain standards, and those standards can at first seem daunting. If you find yourself tongue-tied in the presence of your teachers, I can only assure you that their manners and grace will soon help you to complete your work to the best of your ability.

"Now, then. Our time is nearly up. I'll ask you to return to your homerooms to join your classmates. Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Downton."

 **A/N And there you have it. That's the idea. As I mentioned earlier, we'll spend the next several (10-12) chapters in the past before we come back to this point. I do plan to post regularly to keep us all busy between now and the start of S6.**

 **Please leave a review if you're so inclined. I'm curious to know if you're on board with this crazy idea. Also, check out my mini-trailer on tumblr. Thanks for reading!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N Thank you so much for the reviews for the first chapter and for the support on tumblr. I hope you liked my little trailer.**

 **A big thank you to Geordie Lass, my UK consultant and resident expert on all things British. She kindly offered substantial help on matters such as dialogue, the educational system in the UK, general information about things I just didn't know, and many other tidbits here and there. And additional thanks to brenna-louise and evitamockinbird, who also provided helpful input with story lines and many little details. I've pestered these ladies mercilessly with questions, and their collective patience and willingness to accommodate are astounding.**

 **This chapter begins the backstory, going back nearly fifty years. I suppose this part can't really be called a modern AU, though the later chapters will be much more recent.**

 **Important note: for simplicity and ease of calculations, I pushed the canon timeline forward a century for the purposes of my story. My Charles was born in 1956, and my Elsie was born in 1962, a hundred years later than their canon counterparts. Likewise with the other characters, though we'll meet only a few of them in this prequel.**

 **These chapters are individual scenes, some of them quite short and others longer. They don't tell the complete story, but they hit the highlights and important events that you'll need to know later. They're just little glimpses.**

 _Eton College, Windsor; September, 1969_

Thirteen-year-old Charles Carson had just unpacked all his belongings and settled into his new room. After one last look around to confirm that everything was arranged to his liking, he sat down on his bed to open a book. A scrawny boy tore into the room and pleaded frantically, "Hide me! Quick!"

Charles didn't know what to make of the boy, and he wasn't sure what to do. He was spared having to respond, however, when the boy scrambled into the kneehole under Charles's desk and crouched there nervously, apparently trying to make himself invisible. The boy had only just tucked himself away when two older boys ran down the corridor in pursuit. Charles heard one of them yelling, "Where is he? I'll throttle him!"

Charles stood up to take stock of the situation, and the boys appeared at his door. The more intimidating of the two addressed him. "You, there. Have you seen a scruffy, little runt of a lad come through this way? About this tall? Sort of … sandy ginger hair?"

From the doorway, the older boys could not see the smaller boy cringing under Charles's desk, but Charles could see him, and he appealed to Charles with a desperate look.

"Erm … Well, I don't know." Charles didn't want to lie, but he felt sorry for the boy, so he said, "I saw someone running towards the back stairs just a minute ago, but I didn't get a good look at him."

"Thanks. We'll find him, then," said the other older boy. And they scurried off in the direction Charles had indicated.

When he deemed it safe, the fugitive crawled out from underneath Charles's desk. "Thanks. You're all right. Name's Charlie Grigg. Who are you?"

"Charles Carson," Charles answered warily.

Grigg's face lit up. "Another Charlie! See that? Something in common already! Oh, we're going to get on all right, you and I."

"My name is not _Charlie_ ; it's _Charles_ ," Charles insisted pointedly. "And we'll get on a lot better if you'll leave me out of your trouble from now on! We've only just got here. What can you possibly have done already?"

"Well … I might have run off with his clothes while he was in the shower … "

"That wasn't very smart, Grigg."

"… and his towel," Charlie continued.

"You're going to get yourself killed; you know that? And possibly me, too. I really regret helping you hide," Charles lamented. "What was I thinking?" He shook his head.

"But you _did_ help me, Charlie! And I appreciate it."

"Yes, well, don't get used to it. I don't intend to get you out of any more tight spots. And my name is _Charles_."

"Right. Well, I'd better make myself scarce, Charlie, before they come back and find me. Thanks for your help. It was nice to meet you. See you around." Grigg stuck out his grubby hand, and Charles reluctantly shook it.

"Only if I can't possibly avoid you," Charles muttered under his breath as his new acquaintance disappeared.

 **A/N I want to address two points regarding reviews for the first chapter.**

 **First, a few of you mentioned that you liked the thought of Mr. Molesley as cricket coach. Of course he is! I had to do it. What else would he be? And a clumsy, bumbling PE instructor, to boot. (He's also a Cubs fan and a Bears fan, and if you know anything about those teams … well, Molesley** _ **would**_ **be the one to support them.)**

 **Second, a couple of you also said that the opening remarks were reminiscent of Harry Potter. I assure you this was purely coincidental. It had to be accidental, because I'm one of three people in the world who hasn't read the books nor seen the movies. Honestly and truly. I kid you not. But I'll take the comparison as a compliment … ? I think?**

 **Please leave a review if you have a moment. I'd really love to hear from you. Thank you in advance.**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N Thank you for your continued support. I appreciate all your kind words.**

 **This story is mostly written, except for probably two or three chapters. It will be about 14 chapters total. I hope the fact that this is mostly finished won't deter you from leaving reviews to encourage me. I wanted to be nearly done before I started posting so that I could promise you reliable daily posts. I know that this chapter is quite short, but the ones to come are longer.**

 _Roedean School, Brighton; September, 1973_

Eleven-year-old Elsie Hughes sat on the bench in the courtyard in the late afternoon shade, swinging her feet (which did not quite reach the ground) back and forth beneath her, deep in thought. She hardly noticed the other girl approach.

"Mind if I sit with you?" asked the pretty, dark-haired, dark-eyed girl.

"No, I don't mind." Elsie managed a small smile as she slid to the side to make room for her new companion.

The girl sat next to Elsie and offered a friendly smile in return. "Thank you. I'm Alice."

"My name's Elsie. Pleased to meet you."

The girls sat together in silence for a brief moment before Alice took up the conversation again. "Where are you from, Elsie?"

"Scotland, originally. Argyll."

"You're a long way from home," Alice pointed out.

"We moved to Portsmouth three years ago when my dad got a job there. Where do you live?"

"Very close by, actually. My family are here in Brighton."

"But you'll live here at school?" Elsie wanted to know.

"Only during the week, really. I'll probably go home most weekends, unless I have too much studying to do," Alice told her.

"So you'll see your family often. That's nice for you. Do you have sisters and brothers?"

"Three younger brothers. That's part of the reason why I'll stay here. They're very rambunctious, and our house can get pretty noisy. Makes it hard to concentrate," said Alice. "How about you? Any brothers or sisters?"

"A younger sister. Becky. She's four." A tear slid down Elsie's cheek. "I miss her. This is the first time I've been away from my family."

"Portsmouth's not that far. You'll see them a lot, I'm sure," Alice tried to reassure her. "Besides, you'll be too busy having fun here to miss them _too_ much. Are you excited to start classes?"

That thought made Elsie smile. "I am. And a little nervous, too, to be honest."

"Me, too. More excited than nervous, though, so that's good. What's your favorite subject?"

Elsie thought for a moment. "English literature, I think. I love to read. What's yours?"

"Maths. I'm good with numbers. Mum says I've a head for figures."

"Well, then. Between the two of us, we'll manage both the words _and_ the numbers," said Elsie, and they both smiled.

"It's almost time to go back in now. Do you want to sit with me at dinner tonight?" Alice offered hopefully.

"Sure. That would be nice."

"Do you think we could be friends?"

Elsie laughed. "I think we already are!"

 **A/N Yes, Elsie and Alice are friends. Yes, Alice really is nice: "a sweet and gentle soul." And it will be a several more chapters before Elsie and Charles meet. I hope that doesn't bother anyone too much. But I can promise good things to come.**

 **If you'd be kind enough to leave a review, you'd have my sincere gratitude. Thanks, friends.**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N Thank you for the support so far. I'm grateful for the reviews, follows, and favorites here on this site and the reblogs, likes, and comments on tumblr.**

 **I realize there might not be a lot of interest in this story. The chapters have been short so far, we haven't gotten to anything exciting, and there's no Chelsie yet. Also, there are so many delicious spoilers and so much juicy news going around right now before S6 airs that I don't blame anyone for not giving this story a second thought. That's why I appreciate all the more the encouragement from those of you who have been kind enough to give me a chance and offer your reassurance.**

 **I'm posting two chapters at once, because they're short and closely related. Please move on to Chapter 5 after you read this.**

 _University of Oxford, Balliol College, Oxford: October, 1974_

"Tell me again how you ended up here?" Charles asked Charlie Grigg as they settled into their room. Charles was unpacking his belongings carefully and placing them meticulously, while Grigg was digging haphazardly through boxes and bags and throwing his things everywhere.

"I was accepted, just like you. Give me some credit, Charlie. I'm smarter than you think," answered Grigg in defense as he shoved some clothes in a drawer.

"I know how bright you are. It's not your intelligence I doubt. I just don't think you're willing to work hard enough to make a go of it."

"Well, I can't honestly say that I _enjoy_ hard work. Who _does_? But I'm willing to give this a try, see what happens."

Charles was aghast. "'Give this a try'? 'See what happens'? You've got to be joking! See, that's what I mean. You don't take anything seriously!"

"And you take everything _too_ seriously! Lighten up, mate. Have some fun."

"You'll never make it," predicted Charles. "I give it a year. Unless you pull yourself together and apply yourself, you'll be scrubbing floors or waiting tables somewhere by this time next autumn. Mark my words, Grigg."

"We'll see, Charlie. We'll see."

"And explain to me once more how I have the misfortune of rooming with you? Will no one else put up with your nonsense?"

"I know some people," Grigg said. "I made sure we ended up together."

"Remind me to thank those people," muttered Charles sarcastically while he arranged some books neatly on a shelf.

"Oh, come on, mate! We're friends! You know you like me. You just pretend you don't."

"I _tolerate_ you, which is more than you get from most others. Now leave me be while I finish settling in. Go look for trouble somewhere else. It's been an entire afternoon, and you haven't found any yet." And Charles studiously ignored Grigg while he finished unpacking his things and putting them all in their proper places.

 **A/N If you'd care to leave a review, I'd be much obliged. Thanks!**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N STOP! I've posted two chapters at once, so if you haven't already read Chapter 4, please go back and do that before you read this.**

 **Thank you for all you support. I'm so grateful for your kind words.**

 _The Eagle and Child, Oxford; June, 1978_

Charles walked into the pub and spotted Charlie Grigg at the bar. He joined him, shook his hand, sat down next to him, and ordered a pint of ale.

"It's good to see you again, Charlie. I hear you're sticking around a bit longer after graduation. Post-grad degree, eh? Good for you. You've always been too ambitious for your own good." said Grigg. Charles opened his mouth to respond, but Grigg continued, "Listen, I know we haven't really talked much since I … "

"Since you failed out," supplied Charles.

"I didn't 'fail out.' I left," insisted Grigg defensively. "Decided it wasn't for me. Found something better."

"Something better?" asked Charles skeptically.

"Yes. Which is why I asked you to meet me here."

"Oh?" Charles was uneasy, but curious.

"Well, I've been performing in the pubs on weekends. A comedy act, mostly. A little song and dance parody, magic, juggling, corny jokes, slapstick, that sort of thing," Grigg elaborated.

"And you want me to come and watch your act?"

"No. I want you to _be_ _in_ my act."

"What?!" Charles was flabbergasted.

"I've been doing all right … but I really could use a partner, a straight man."

"And you thought of me?" demanded Charles, still incredulous.

"Admit it, Charlie. You've got a real flair for the dramatic."

"I won't perform for an audience."

"You're going to be a teacher," Grigg pointed out. "A _classics_ teacher. If that isn't performing for an audience … "

"I don't have time," Charles argued. "Not with all my coursework and cricket. I'll be just starting my post-graduate course in the fall."

"It would just be once in a while, on a Friday or Saturday night – during term breaks or in the summertime. It would mean some extra cash, and it might be a nice diversion for you. You'd get out, meet some people … "

"I'm not going to make a fool of myself in front of a crowd of drunks at a pub."

"That's the beauty of it, mate. They won't even remember. The liquor makes them loose with the laughs and liberal with the cash. They'll toss a few coins in your hat … maybe even a note or two, if you're lucky … "

"No! I'm not going to do it, Grigg. And that's an end to it."

But the very next weekend, Charles found himself performing with Charlie Grigg.

 **A/N Please drop me a little note if you're so inclined. You know how much I'd love to hear from you. Thank you.**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N Thank you for all the kind feedback. Your encouragement keeps me going. I have a few more chapters of this prequel left to finish writing, and I'm simultaneously working on the main story. Please keep reviewing and reblogging, because your support inspires me to write more and to write better.**

 _Palace Pier, Brighton; September, 1978_

It was late Saturday evening, and Elsie and Alice were leaving the pier. They'd studied all afternoon and had decided to treat themselves to an evening out. They'd enjoyed a walk along the beach, a stroll around the pier, and some ice cream. But now it was getting late, and so they were heading back to school.

"I'm glad we came. It's only the first week of the term, and I'm already exhausted. It's nice to get away for a little while," observed Elsie.

"My head is _still_ swimming from those maths lessons we did earlier!" Alice remarked.

Just then a group of boys came running by and pushed Elsie off balance. In their exuberance, they didn't even notice they'd bumped into her and simply kept running.

"Oh!" Elsie let out a small yelp of surprise as she went down.

Alice bent to help her up, asking, "Are you all right?"

"I think so," Elsie told her as she stood, "but I might have twisted my ankle."

"Can you put any weight on it?"

Elsie tried and immediately winced. "No. I don't think I can walk."

An older boy – a young man, really – who had witnessed the scene approached and addressed Elsie in soft-spoken tones. "Excuse me, miss, but I saw what happened. Those boys should be more careful. Are you hurt? Is there something I can do to help?"

Elsie looked up at him and was immediately struck by his kind face and obvious, sincere concern. "Thank you, but I'm not sure what to do," she said, rather embarrassed. "I've twisted my ankle, and I don't think I can walk, but we've got to get back to school."

"Well, for the time being, let's find you a bench so you can sit down," Alice interjected. Then she turned to their new acquaintance. "Will you help me get my friend to a seat … ? Erm … I'm sorry. What's your name?"

"Joe. Joe Burns." He was already wrapping his arm around Elsie's back, crouching down a little, and nudging his shoulder under her arm to support her, while Alice did the same on the other side.

"Pleased to meet you. My name is Alice, and this is my friend, Elsie."

With Joe and Alice supporting Elsie, the trio managed to hobble to a bench where Elsie was gently deposited.

"Joe, were you planning to be here for a while yet, or do you need to leave soon? I was wondering if you would sit with Elsie while I find a telephone and call the school for help," said Alice.

"I'm in no hurry, and I'd be happy to help. But I think it's better for me to go and phone the school, and you stay here with Elsie. I wouldn't want you walking around alone. And Elsie might feel more comfortable here with you, rather than some strange lad she's just met. Just give me the number, and tell me what to say."

"That's very kind of you," said Elsie, relieved at not having to sit and make uncomfortable small talk with a boy she didn't know, while her ankle was throbbing. She had to admit to herself, though, that it wouldn't have been _entirely_ unpleasant: he did seem nice enough and wasn't bad-looking.

Alice sat down, found a pen and paper in her purse, wrote down a telephone number, and gave Joe instructions – call Roedean, ask for Nurse Miller, and tell her that Elsie Hughes has injured her foot at the pier. Joe hurried off and did as he was asked, and a short time later he returned to say that the school nurse would be along soon with a car to pick up the girls.

"Thank you, Joe," said Elsie. "I appreciate all your help. I think we'll be all right now. You probably want to get back to your friends or family."

"I'm here alone. As I said, I'm not in any rush. As long as you don't mind, I'll wait with you until help arrives, and then I'll see you to the car. Otherwise, I'll worry," insisted Joe.

For the next half hour, Elsie, Alice, and Joe talked easily about school and their friends; Elsie's family in Scotland, Alice's family in Brighton, and Joe's parents in Yorkshire; how Elsie wanted to be a teacher, how Alice wanted to be an accountant, how Joe was just starting at the University of Sussex, studying engineering and hoped to join the army and go to Sandhurst after that. Joe had an open, easy way about him and made both girls feel comfortable. When the school nurse arrived, Joe helped Elsie from her perch on the bench to the front seat of the car. Nurse Miller and both girls thanked him profusely, and Joe graciously shrugged off their gratitude.

After a stop at the hospital for an X-ray to confirm that no bones were broken, Elsie was taken to her room and tucked into bed with ice on her propped-up, swollen ankle.

The next day, and small bouquet of bright flowers was delivered for "Miss Elsie Hughes," along with a simple note:

 _Dear Elsie,_

 _I hope you're feeling better today. I'm sorry you took a tumble last night, but I'm glad I was able to help. You'll be up and about in no time, I'm sure._

 _All my best,_

 _Joe Burns_

And when Nurse Miller came to check on Elsie that afternoon, she informed her that she'd had a call from Elsie's friend, Joe, asking after Elsie and her ankle. He didn't want to trouble Elsie by having her limp to a telephone to speak to him, but he left a number for his residence hall at the university, in case she wanted to reach him once she was recovered.

Elsie was flattered, and with Alice's encouragement, she did call Joe a few days later to thank him for his kindness. He asked if he might see Elsie again some time – offered to take her to the pier again the next Friday night – and she happily agreed.

 **A/N Yes, Joe Burns really is "a nice man." Please don't be too upset by that. I still promise good things to come with Chelsie. We just haven't gotten there yet.**

 **Please consider reviewing. If you've never posted anything yourself, you might not fully appreciate just how much it means. If you** _ **have**_ **posting something, then you know** _ **exactly**_ **how much it means. Thanks in advance.**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N Thank you for the support here and on tumblr. Thank you for sticking with me.**

 **This is probably my favorite chapter. It was certainly the most fun to write. Hope you'll enjoy it.**

 _The King's Arms, Oxford; August, 1979_

"And now, please welcome, performing tonight for the very last time, Charlie the Champ and Charlie the Chump!" said the announcer, and Charles and Grigg took their places on the makeshift "stage" – really an open area to the side of the room – and began their act for the crowd.

Charles, dressed impeccably in a suit and tie, started out by telling some sophisticated but corny jokes. "Julius Caesar walks into a bar and orders a Martinus. The bartender asks, 'Don't you mean _martini_?' Caesar says, 'If I wanted a double, I would have said so!'" Some in the crowd chuckled.

Then Grigg – who wore a loud suit with a mismatched, badly-knotted, crooked tie, a clashing, wrinkled, untucked shirt, and an old, dented bowler – objected loudly with exaggerated boorishness. "No, no, no. Charlie ... Listen, mate. This ain't the crowd for those types of jokes. They want something more … _colorful_."

"Now, Charlie … _You_ might not be refined enough to appreciate such humor, but this is a bright lot we've got here." Charles cupped his hand to the side of his mouth and addressed the crowd in a dramatic stage whisper, pretending Grigg couldn't hear. "He's not got the fastest chariot in the race. Our Latin professor kept asking him to conjugate verbs, but instead, he always declined." Several patrons groaned and rolled their eyes, but many of the more intellectual types were appreciative of Charles's sophisticated humor.

"Now, see here, Charlie. These nice folks are looking for something … well, something a little _spicier_ , shall we say?" Then Grigg leaned towards the crowd and stage-whispered, "Not to mention something that's actually _funny_."

And so progressed the act. Charles kept the more erudite customers entertained, while Grigg, with his off-color stories and slapstick gags, appealed to the baser sense of humor of the rest of the patrons, who were indeed, more receptive to "something spicier." People enjoyed the lively repartee.

The duo sang some songs and recited some poems, Charles's numbers being academic parodies of popular songs and Grigg's contributions being the raunchiest little ditties imaginable. They ended the act with Charles performing some legitimate magic tricks and sleight of hand, while Grigg pranced around behind him, making faces and gestures, unseen by Charles but in full view of the audience, antagonizing him and sabotaging his attempts. For example, Charles pulled from his purportedly empty hand a long string of brightly-colored, tied-together silk handkerchiefs, to which Grigg had attached some silky, slinky women's lingerie. In another instance, Charles tore up some pages from a telephone directory and placed the pieces inside an ostensibly empty hat. He waved his hand over the hat, but Grigg pretended to distract him and threw some more scraps of paper in the hat when Charles was not looking. The upshot was that after Charles claimed that he would pull from the hat fully reconstructed and undamaged papers, he instead withdrew a series of suggestive pictures. For the finale, Charles juggled knives. Grigg kept dancing around him, poking him and occasionally grabbing a knife or throwing another one into the mix. Charles pretended to be flustered and off-balance, but it was all tightly choreographed. Charles got his "revenge" in the end when one of the knives grazed Grigg so closely that it sliced off half his mustache. (The audience were completely unaware, of course, that the knives were, in fact, dreadfully dull and Grigg had previously shaven off part of his mustache and stuck it loosely back in place, to be displaced again at the proper time during the act.)

The performance was met with rousing applause, the crowd called for three encores, and the performers obliged with a dual juggling act, a complicated and impressive card trick, and a hysterical song and dance number.

Besides the meager stipend that the pub paid them, the Charlies made quite a haul that night from the offerings of enthusiastic patrons. After their success, the two men sat at the bar with their celebratory drinks.

Grigg raised his glass in toast. "Well, Charlie, we've had a good run, you and I."

"I must admit it; we have," Charles conceded. "I was doubtful when you first asked me to join the act, but it's been all right. I've made some money, met some interesting sorts, learnt some good jokes and a few new tricks … "

"See, Charlie? Sometimes I know what I'm doing."

"Rarely."

"So just a few days and you're off to teach at Eton, eh? That fancy degree landed you a cushy job," observed Grigg with no real animosity or envy.

"You're a bright bloke, Grigg," Charles pointed out. "You could be in a similar position now if you'd stuck with it."

"But I don't want to be in a similar position. I'm happy right where I am for now. Maybe someday I'll finish my degree and find a job like you, but right now, I'm pleased to be free and easy."

Just then, a large, drunken man at the end of the bar apparently recognized Grigg, knocked his glass over with a clatter, pointed at Grigg, and yelled, "You!"

"Damn! It's the bloke from last night! Charlie, help me!" cried Grigg as he sprang to his feet and bolted towards the door.

"Bloody hell, Grigg! Not again!" complained Charles as he threw some money on the bar and followed Grigg out the door.

The drunken man briefly gave chase, but his pursuit was severely hampered by his inebriated state. He made it out the front door of the pub and tripped over the threshold. By the time he'd dragged himself to his feet, Charles and Grigg were already a block away. They turned a corner, rested against a wall, bent forward panting with their hands on their knees, and tried to catch their breaths and slow their heartbeats.

When they were able to speak, Charles asked, "What was that all about? What did you do now?"

"He was at the pub last night after you left," explained Grigg.

" _And_?" prompted Charles.

"And we had a bit of a run-in," Grigg continued. And he told Charles he story.

 _Charles had already gone home, and Grigg sat alone at the bar, eyeing his full pint of lager. A man sat on the stool next to him and ordered a shot of whiskey. Feeling mischievous and sensing an opportunity, Grigg challenged him._

" _Hey, mate. You know, I'll bet I can drink three pints before you can down three shots."_

" _Are you crazy? Or maybe you're already off your pickle. You're going to drink three whole pints … in the time it takes me to down three shots?"_

" _That's what I said. Twenty quid." And Grigg put his money on the bar and ordered two more pints._

" _You must be joking! This is too easy. All right. You're on, mate." The man put his own twenty-pound note on the bar and ordered two more shots._

 _The barkeep brought them their drinks._

" _Now, there's only one rule: we can't touch each other's glasses. No interfering," admonished Grigg._

" _All right. That's fair enough," agreed the man._

" _Ready? Go!" called Grigg, and each man lifted a glass._

 _Grigg polished off his lager at a respectable rate, but his companion downed his shot in one gulp, set his empty glass down, and sat smirking._

 _The man picked up his second glass slowly, waved it around dramatically, and taunted Grigg: "This is the easiest twenty quid I've ever made."_

 _As the man easily tossed back his second shot, Grigg finished his first pint._

" _Looks like you're in trouble, mate," the man said while he placed his empty shot glass on the bar._

 _But just before he could pick up his third shot, Grigg took his empty glass and set it upside-down on top of the last remaining full shot glass._

" _What do think you're doing?" the man accused Grigg and began to lift the glass._

 _Grigg stopped him and chided, "Ah, ah, ah! You can't touch my glasses. Remember?"_

 _And Grigg smiled, sat back, and sipped his second pint at a leisurely pace. The man sputtered and fumed, and Grigg finished his last two pints before the man thought to ask the barkeep or someone else to remove the obstructing glass or to pick it up himself while holding it with a napkin or handkerchief. Grigg took his winnings and moved to a table in the corner._

"They should call you 'Charlie the Charlatan'!" remarked Charles at the conclusion of the tale.

"Oh, but that's not all. See, his girl showed up a bit later, and I … well, I … flirted with her. And then, when she wasn't interested, I may have insulted her. And her mother." Though Grigg appeared to relate this information with reluctance, Charles could sense the perverse pride beneath his words.

"You just don't know when to quit, do you? I have never in my life met anyone so prone to landing himself in trouble. I'm glad our collaboration has come to an end. If I stick around any longer, you'll be the death of me."

"Oh, Charlie, it hasn't been all _that_ bad."

"I wish you well, Grigg." Charles offered his hand, and Grigg shook it.

"Likewise, mate."

"Try to stay out of trouble," Charles warned. And with that futile admonishment, Charles left Grigg and went on his way.

 **A/N But you know we haven't** _ **quite**_ **seen the end of Grigg yet.**

 **Thanks for reading. Please leave a review if you can spare the time.**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N Thank you for sticking with me and supporting me. I'm extremely grateful. I like to send personal thank you notes to reviewers who have accounts, but I can't thank guest reviewers individually. So to my guest reviewers, please accept this little note as a token of my gratitude, and know that I love hearing from you.**

 _Roedean School, Brighton; July, 1980_

Elsie and Alice stood on the school's front lawn, overlooking the sea.

"I'm going to miss you, Elsie," Alice said sincerely.

"I'm going to miss you, too. So very much! But I promise to write and call. All the time. You'll grow tired of my pestering you," Elsie tried to joke.

"Never!" cried Alice with a smile.

"My loss will be Cambridge's gain. They'll be lucky to have you."

"Oh, I don't know about that. But you _will_ come and visit, won't you?"

"I will. I promise. Whenever our holidays allow," vowed Elsie.

"And I'll come to Edinburgh to see you, if you'd like."

"Of course I would!"

"You're sure you won't be having so much fun and making so many new friends that you'll forget about me?" Alice teased.

"Don't be silly!" Elsie scolded good-naturedly.

Elsie recalled the day of her arrival, when Alice consoled a lonely, frightened, little girl who missed her family. Now, on the eve of their parting, here was Alice once again, comforting the same frightened, now slightly older girl who was already missing her friends, even before having left them. Overcome with emotion and ever so grateful for her friend's compassion, Elsie pulled Alice into a tight hug. Neither spoke for minute or two, until Alice noticed someone approaching.

"Oh, look! We've got a visitor!" observed Alice, pointing at the figure walking towards them and drawing Elsie's attention to him. "It's your lovely gentleman. I'll leave you to it, then."

As Alice left and Joe arrived, they exchanged pleasantries, and then Elsie found herself alone with her beau. He kissed her cheek in greeting.

"They said I'd find you here. Phyllis told me you and Alice went for a walk," Joe explained. Without warning, he picked her up and swung her around. "I'm so proud of you, Elsie! Head of the class!"

Elsie smiled and laughed at his exuberance, but it wasn't from any genuine happiness, and Joe saw the tears in her eyes.

"What is it, sweetheart? What's wrong? You should be happy." He brushed a tear from her cheek with his thumb.

"I'm leaving tomorrow! And Scotland's so far away!"

"Oh, Elsie, honey! I know. But what can you do about it? Your family are moving back, so you won't be lonely, and Edinburgh is a first-rate university. It's what you've always wanted. You're going to do so well! I just know it."

"Well, I appreciate your confidence. But I'll miss you _so_ much, Joe." She wrapped her arms around him and squeezed tightly, burying her face in his neck.

"You listen to me, Elsie Hughes," Joe said, kissing the top of her head. "I love you more than anything, and I'm going to miss you like the dickens. But you're the strongest, smartest, hardest-working person I've ever known, and you can do this. You do want it, right? You want to go to a great university and become a great teacher?"

"I do, yes," Elsie answered with conviction.

"Then you go and do it. You go to the best university and do your best work and become the best teacher ever," Joe encouraged her.

"But what about … what about … _us_?" Elsie asked tentatively.

"What _about_ us? Nothing will change. I love you more than ever. It's true we'll be far apart. But I'll call and write every day, and I'll visit as often as I possibly can, on holiday and on leave. I have two more years here at Sussex and then one at Sandhurst. I don't know where I'll be stationed after that, but they could send me to Antarctica, and it wouldn't keep me from you. And then when you finish at university, we'll be … Well, I'd like us to … " Joe trailed off.

"You'd like us to … _what_?" Elsie asked expectantly.

"Well, I can't ask you properly – not yet, anyway. But after I've graduated and been commissioned, I'm going to ask you to marry me," Joe declared with certainty.

"You'll wait for me?" Elsie asked, more than a little astonished and greatly overjoyed.

"Of course I will! I'll wait as long as it takes, because one thing I do know: I'm not marrying anyone else." His surety touched something deep inside her.

"Joseph Burns, I do not deserve you!" Elsie cried after a moment, when she finally recovered the power of speech. And she stretched up to kiss him.

"Rubbish!" demurred Joe. "I'm the luckiest bloke on the planet." And he kissed her back.

Elsie pulled away from the kiss just long enough to assure him of one thing. "And just so you know … When you ask, I'm going to say yes!" she whispered breathlessly in his ear.

 **A/N I would love for you to leave me a review to let me know what you think. Thanks!**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N Thank you to everyone who's reading and reviewing. I really appreciate it.**

 **I know some of you have expressed your dissatisfaction at seeing Elsie with Joe. I'm sorry to make you unhappy, but that's the way this story has to go – for a little while. But thank you for trusting me and sticking with me despite your misgivings. I have a plan. I promise.**

 **Today, we meet two familiar characters …**

 _Eton College, Windsor: September, 1982_

Charles sat in his office, looking over his lesson plans, when there was a knock at the door.

"Come in, please," Charles called out.

And in walked the most regal-looking woman he had ever seen.

"Hello, Mr. Carson. My name is Violet Crawley." She extended her hand, and Charles shook it.

"How do you do?" asked Charles, unsure what to think of this woman whose noble bearing rivaled that of the queen herself.

"I understand that you're going to be my son's classics teacher this term. His name is Robert Crawley, and I want you to look after him. See that he studies hard and doesn't get himself into any trouble."

"Well, Mrs. Crawley, I'm not certain – "

Mrs. Crawley cut him off. "He's a bright lad, but he's a bit … naïve. Just make sure he keeps his nose clean and in his books."

"Very well, madam. I shall do that." Charles wasn't sure _exactly_ what this woman wanted him to do for her son, but it was easy enough to agree to her request. Charles would look after _all_ of his students, keep them _all_ out of trouble, and make sure they _all_ worked hard. This Crawley lad would be no different.

Seeming satisfied with Charles's assurance, Mrs. Crawley rose to leave and offered her hand again. "Thank you, Mr. Carson. I won't keep you from you work. I'm entrusting my son to your charge. Don't make me regret that."

He shook her hand and told her, "You won't be sorry. Your trust is well-placed. It's been a pleasure to meet you. I'm sure we'll speak again soon."

As she left, Charles wondered whether to resent this woman's interference or to admire her forthrightness and concern for her son. Something about her made him opt for the latter.

Later that afternoon, Charles waited for his class to file into the classroom. Once the boys were all seated, he gave his usual first-day-of-term lecture, explaining what subject matter the course would cover, informing them of his high expectations, and assuring them that he would stand for no nonsense. While he was speaking, he caught two boys whispering and laughing. One of them was the Crawley chap, of whom he'd taken particular note when he called the roll. He silenced both boys with a stern reprimand and a harsh stare and gave them an extra assignment to complete for the next day. When the bell rang, he asked young Mr. Crawley to remain behind, so that he might have a word with him. After all the boys left, Charles addressed the young man.

"Mr. Crawley, I had a visit from your mother just this morning."

"Yes, sir," the frightened boy replied.

"She tells me you're a bright young man and says that I can expect great things from you."

"I … I hope she's right, sir," said Robert, somewhat taken aback.

"I'm sure she is. Already, I see great potential. But let's not have you distracted by any of the nonsense I observed earlier. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir. I'm sorry. It won't happen again."

Early the next morning, there was a knock on Charles's office door. "Enter!" he called.

And Robert Crawley came in to hand Charles his extra work. Charles took it from him and looked at the stack of papers; it was twice as thick as Charles would have expected. He thumbed through it quickly to look at the content and found that the boy had gone well above and beyond what Charles had asked him to do; his work was impeccable.

Charles looked up to Robert and said, "Well done, my boy. If I can expect work of this quality from you, we shall have no further issues. I'm putting my faith in you, son. I'd hate to think that faith is misplaced. Now, run along."

And during the next two years, Robert Crawley showed Charles that his faith was indeed well-placed.

 **A/N Please leave a review if you can. I still have a couple of chapters left to write, and your reviews do help with motivation and inspiration. Thanks!**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N Thank you for reading and reviewing here on this site and for reblogging my posts on tumblr.**

 _Catterick Garrison, North Yorkshire; March, 1991_

Elsie sat staring into the dark, rocking baby Peter. The boy had gone back to sleep after fussing for a while, but Elsie couldn't bear to put him down. Holding him soothed her.

Alice came into the room. She'd taken some time off from work and had been staying with Elsie in the week since Joe's funeral. Despite having gone to different universities and living far from each other, the two had remained best friends. Elsie's parents and sister had gone back to Scotland two days ago. They'd asked her to go and stay with them for a while, but Elsie had chosen to remain in Catterick Garrison. Joe's family, who lived nearby, had also offered to have Elsie and Peter stay at their house, but she'd declined their offer, as well. She'd lived in a little flat near the barracks with Joe since they'd been married, and she couldn't fathom being anywhere else at the moment. However, she was unspeakably glad of Alice's company for the time being.

"I thought I heard you in here. Are you all right?" asked Alice quietly, so as not to wake the sleeping baby.

"No, I'm not. And I don't know if I ever will be again," Elsie answered honestly.

"Oh, Elsie. You will. I promise. It will take time, and it won't be easy. You'll grieve, as you should – as you _must_ – and it will hurt. But you'll get through it – because you have to. Joe would want you to."

"He promised he'd come back to me. Before he left, he promised to stay safe for Peter and me." Elsie choked back her sobs.

"I know." Alice walked over to Elsie in the rocking chair and laid a hand on her shoulder. "Here. Let me put him down. Let's go make some tea, and we can talk." Elsie held out the sleeping boy, and Alice gently took him and laid him in his crib.

The two women went to Elsie's kitchen and set about making a pot of tea. When it was done, they sat at the table with a cup each.

"Forty-seven casualties. Britain suffered only forty-seven casualties in this war,* and my husband was one of them." Elsie's tears began anew. "And it wasn't even hostile fire! It was friendly fire.** An accident." Somehow this knowledge made Joe's loss even more difficult for Elsie.

"All deaths are senseless," Alice pointed out. "If it had been enemy fire, he'd still be gone."

Elsie made a harsh exhalation, some mixture of a harrumph, a laugh, and a bark. "I suppose you're right about that. But what will I ever do without him? We were just beginning our life together. We'd been married just five years. And Peter's still a babe – only a year old. He'll never even know his father."

"Yes, he will. Because you'll tell him. You'll tell him how his father was the kindest, bravest, smartest, most patient, most loving, best man anyone could ever hope to meet. You'll tell him how his dad went to school and studied hard. How he helped a damsel in distress – a perfect stranger – who had hurt her ankle. How he waited patiently to marry that damsel and encouraged her to work hard and follow her dream. How he was so happy when he did marry her. How he was even happier when his son was born, and how no father ever loved his son more. How he was such a brave soldier and died defending what he believed in, so that his son could grow up in a better world. And you'll tell Peter that you're sure he'll grow up to be just like his father."

Elsie was sobbing bitterly now, and Alice stood, walked around the table and leaned down to hug Elsie. "Come on," she said. "Let's get you back to sleep."

 **A/N *When Elsie says "this war," she's referring to the Persian Gulf War in 1990-1991. **The particular incident is which Joe was killed occurred on February 26, 1991. An American aircraft accidentally fired missiles at British armored vehicles, resulting in nine deaths (and eleven injuries). While Joe Burns is not real, the war and this friendly fire incident ARE real. Obviously, "Joe Burns" was not among those who lost their lives in the accident. I just put our fictional character into a real situation.**

 **Please leave me a review if you're able. Thank you.**


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N Thank you for sticking with me. Special shout-out to the guest reviewers whom I can't think individually. (If you'll sign up for an account here on this site, I can send you a personal thank you message. I'd love to talk to you. Really.)**

 _The Lamb and Flag, Oxford; July, 1992_

Charles sat at the bar in the pub, nursing his gin and tonic. He'd spent the day at an alumni cricket and barbecue event and had decided to stop in for a drink before he headed back to Eton. He wasn't thinking about anything in particular and allowed himself to listen to snippets of the conversations going on among the people around him. He heard the couple at the table behind him having a quiet but animated discussion and silently cursed his luck when he recognized a familiar voice.

"Oh, come on, Alice. What's the big deal?" came the unmistakable voice of one Charlie Grigg.

"No, Charlie! It's not right!" insisted Grigg's companion, whom Charles guessed must be called Alice.

"They'll never miss the money. It's not even that much. We've only had fish and chips," countered Grigg.

"All the more reason. If you're dishonest in such a small matter, I'll certainly never trust you when it comes to anything important. I'm _not_ skipping without paying the bill. And if _you_ don't want to pay it, then _I will_."

Charles downed the rest of his drink, left the glass on the bar, approached the table, and addressed the young woman. "Pardon me, miss. I couldn't help overhearing. Is this gentleman troubling you?" He turned to Grigg. "This nice young lady doesn't seem very happy with you at the moment, Grigg."

Grigg stood to shake Charles's hand, and Charles returned the gesture out of courtesy. "Hello, Charlie! Fancy meeting you here! It's been a while. Alice, this is my old mate, Charlie Carson - the one I'm always telling you about. Charlie, this is my girlfriend, Alice."

Charles couldn't help but notice how pretty she was, and he wondered what such an attractive woman was doing with a man like Charlie Grigg. "Hello. It's a pleasure to meet you, Alice. _Charles_ Carson." Charles extended his hand to Alice, and she gracefully grasped his giant paw with her smaller, delicate hand.

"Likewise, Charles. Alice Neal. My Charlie speaks very highly of you. Says you've always been kind to him."

"Yes, well, he has a way of always managing to need my help," He turned to Grigg and spoke in low, menacing tones. "Now, then, Grigg. I'm going to help you again, this one last time. I want you to leave right now, before you cause a scene. I'll take care of your bill. Just go."

"But Charlie – " protested Grigg.

"Just do it!" Charles whispered harshly with gritted teeth, shutting Grigg down before speaking to Alice. "Alice, it's your choice whether you want to go with him, but I'll advise you that he's bad news, this one. If you haven't already discovered that for yourself, you're soon likely to."

"I'm beginning to see that," she acknowledged.

"Alice!" Charlie complained.

"No, Charlie, I won't go with you. Charles is right. Just leave," commanded Alice.

Grigg became indignant, but a threatening scowl from Charles sent him stalking off in a huff.

"I'm sorry about that, Alice," Charles apologized as he stood there wondering what to do next.

"No! Please, don't apologize, Charles!" insisted Alice. "I should be _thanking_ you. I should have sent him packing long ago."

"If you don't mind my asking, how did you end up with a man like Grigg in the first place? You seem too intelligent and too honest to be spending time with the likes of _him_ ," Charles said. "Not to mention far too pretty," he added quietly but earnestly.

"And you're too kind," said Alice, shyly. "I'll tell you the whole sordid tale, if you want to hear it. Won't you have a seat?"

"Are you sure? I don't want to push in."

"I'm sure. I'd enjoy your company."

Charles needed no further encouragement: her warm smile convinced him. He joined her at the table, and they ordered drinks and dessert. He and Alice chatted easily for another hour. They talked about school and jobs, family and friends, about how Charles was a classics teacher at Eton and Alice worked in the finance department at Cambridge. Alice told Charles how she met Grigg through a mutual friend and how she found him "charming." He was fun, and he made her laugh. Charles could definitely imagine Grigg turning on the charm to impress a pretty lady. But Alice also related that recently she'd begun to see the true Charlie, and the unpleasant episode earlier this evening had only confirmed her fears that he was nothing but a smooth-talking, conniving rascal. Charles had to agree with her assessment. He then told her of his acquaintance with Grigg and of the many times Charles had had to bail him out of trouble.

"If _you_ don't mind _my_ asking," ventured Alice, "what's a nice man like you doing helping a no-good troublemaker like Charlie?"

Charles shrugged his shoulders. "I just feel sorry for him, I guess. He's hardly my favorite person, but I would never wish ill on him."

"You're a kind man, Charles."

Charles flushed little and cleared his throat. "Yes, well. It's getting late. I suppose you'll want to be on your way now. I'd be glad to walk you to wherever you're going, since you've lost your escort for the evening. Or … were you staying with Grigg?" Charles asked sheepishly, his face heating and coloring.

Alice let out a small laugh. To Charles's relief, she answered, "Of course not! What kind of girl do you take me for?" Charles was momentarily worried he'd offended her, but he soon realized she was teasing him. She smiled, rested her hand on his forearm in reassurance, and continued, "I'm staying with a friend at Keble College, only a few minutes' walk. As long as it's no trouble, I'd love for you to walk me there."

"It's no trouble at all," Charles assured her with a broad smile.

After paying the bill, Charles walked Alice to her friend's place. Before they parted, he plucked up his courage and asked if he might see her again, and she happily consented.

 **A/N Please leave a review if you're able. I know that some people weren't at all pleased that Elsie was happy with Joe. However, those people were incredibly kind about it and extremely indulgent and are still sticking with me; and for that, I thank them. These same people will be just as bothered to see Charles with Alice, but I'll beg their pardon once again and thank them for their loyalty and trust. I do have a plan, and we're working towards Chelsie. Please bear with me a little longer. Thanks.**


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N I realize this isn't the sexiest or the flashiest story out there right now. I understand also that there's a lot of excitement with the S6 UK premiere tomorrow, and this is the last thing on anyone's mind. But thank you sooooo much to the handful of you who are sticking with me through this.**

 **I've come to the end of the chapters that I'd already written. Though the last few are planned out, I have yet to write them. I hope to be able to keep up the daily posts, but I can't promise you that, even if I do survive Episode 1. Comments and feedback definitely help motivate and inspire, so please do let me know what you think.**

 _Catterick Garrison, North Yorkshire, UK; February, 1993_

"Hello!" Elsie greeted her visitors at the door.

Alice hugged her warmly and kissed her cheek. "Elsie, this is my Charles."

"Hello, Elsie. It's a pleasure to finally meet you." Charles extended his right hand, and Elsie shook it.

"Hello, Charles. How do you do?" Elsie responded.

"This is for you." Charles had two bottles tucked under his left arm. He pulled out the first, a very nice red wine, and gave it to Elsie.

"Thank you," she said. "That's very kind."

Then he held out the other one, a bottle of sparkling grape juice. "And this is for Peter. It's only juice, of course, but I wouldn't want him to feel left out."

"Oh, how nice! Thank you." Elsie was touched by this small gesture.

As if on cue, a speeding toddler blazed into the room and headed straight for Alice.

"Auntie Alice!" cried Peter, as she picked the boy up and hugged him.

"My, how big you're getting!" Alice exclaimed excitedly. "How's my favorite little man?"

"Good!" Peter told her.

Still holding the boy, Alice turned to Charles. "Peter, I'd like you to meet my friend, Mr. Carson."

"Hi," said the little boy, smiling at the large man in front of him.

"Hello, Peter," said Charles affably, ruffling the little tyke's hair. "What a fine young lad you are! How old are you? Eight? Nine?"

"No!" Peter laughed. "I'm three!"

"Never!" cried Charles in feigned surprise. "You're so big and so smart! You must be at least ten years old."

"You're silly," giggled Peter.

"Hmmm … Now, let's see if I've got anything in here for you … " interjected Alice. She dug around in her purse dramatically, as if trying to find something, and after building some suspense, she pulled out a small toy truck and handed it to the eager boy.

"Thank you!" Peter cried. "A dump truck!"

Elsie smiled, proud of her son's manners. She hung up Charles's and Alice's coats and excused herself to take the wine and grape juice to the kitchen. She left Alice and Charles seated in the front room with Peter, who was showing them some of his toys and board books. As Elsie put the wine in the refrigerator and checked the roast in the oven, she reflected briefly on Alice's last boyfriend. Elsie had visited Alice at Cambridge in the early summer and had met Charlie Grigg, whom Alice had just started dating. Elsie had disliked him immediately, sensing something shifty in his demeanor and not quite trusting him. Later, when Alice had asked for Elsie's opinion of Charlie, Elsie told her honestly that she was suspicious of the man and warned Alice to be careful. Just two weeks later, Alice had called Elsie to say that she'd broken off with Charlie and taken up with his friend, a nice man called Charles Carson. Elsie could tell from the tone of Alice's subsequent phone calls and letters that Charles was a much better man, and Alice was happier with him. Now, having met him (albeit briefly) for herself, she decided that already Charles Carson seemed far superior to Charlie Grigg. This assessment was confirmed when she returned to the front room to find Alice smiling fondly at Charles, who was lying on the floor, pushing toy cars around with Peter. They were both making racing engine noises.

Elsie joined Alice on the sofa. They caught up on the latest happenings in each other's lives while Charles and Peter played on the floor. When dinner was ready, the women carried the food to the table, and Charles opened and poured the wine. He also poured some of the sparkling grape juice into Peter's plastic cup. Soon everyone was seated around the table and eating, with Peter next to Elsie in his booster seat.

"This is delicious, Elsie," commented Charles politely. "Thank you for having us."

"Oh, it's my pleasure," Elsie replied. "Alice has told me all about you. It's so nice to meet you in person."

"Likewise." Charles nodded and smiled.

"I'm so pleased to finally introduce you both: two of my favorite people," Alice said.

Just then, Peter let out a squawk as Elsie tried to get him to eat some peas.

"Three of my favorite people," Alice amended with a laugh.

"So Alice tells me you're a teacher," Elsie stated.

"I am," Charles confirmed. "Classics, at Eton. I understand you teach, as well."

"I do. I teach English literature at Richmond School."

"You must be very busy, between your job and caring for Peter," Charles remarked, clearly impressed.

"Oh, she's a marvel!" Alice gushed.

"Well, I do have lots of help," Elsie demurred. "Joe's parents watch Peter for me while I'm working, and they make sure we're taken care of. And my parents and sister visit often."

"Alice told me how you lost your husband. I'm very sorry," offered Charles.

"Thank you. It's been … difficult. But we're managing." Elsie smiled a little at Charles's evident compassion.

"Cake, Mummy!" Peter piped up hopefully.

"I think someone's telling us it's time for dessert!" laughed Alice.

After the meal, Elsie and Alice stood in the kitchen, washing the dishes and cleaning up. Charles had cleared the table and offered further help, but he had been dragged away by Peter, who had asked him to read a story. Charles's deep tones drifted in from the other room, telling tales of barnyard animals, complete with silly voices and accents, mingling pleasantly with Peter's high-pitched laughter.

"Charles seems very nice. A major improvement over your last bloke!" Elsie offered her opinion even before being asked.

"You're right, of course. I don't know what I was thinking," said Alice.

"Neither do I, but at least you're thinking properly now."

"So you approve, then? You like him?"

"Yes, I do. He treats you well, and he looks at you the way … the way ... " Elsie said the last words softly and wistfully and drifted off.

"He does," Alice agreed, laying a hand on Elsie's shoulder.

"So it's serious, then?" Elsie wanted to know, regaining her composure.

"It is," Alice told her. "The last time we visited my family, he took a long walk with my father. I think I might know what they talked about. Well, I hope I'm right." Alice couldn't hold back a grin, and Elsie couldn't help but break out in a wide smile, too.

"Oh, Alice! That's wonderful! I'm thrilled for you!" And Elsie embraced her friend tightly. "You deserve every happiness."

"Thank you. I _am_ very happy."

"And I'm sure you'll be happier still. But first, let's finish up in here so we can go rescue your poor man from my very lovable but demanding little boy!"

A week later, Elsie received a phone call from an ecstatic Alice, confirming that their suspicions had been correct: Charles had proposed on Valentine's Day, and Alice had accepted.

 **A/N Please review if you're able. I don't mean to sound too desperate or whiny, but I'd like to finish this, and your input provides the impetus.**


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N We're back. I'm sorry about the short hiatus, but I became very distracted by the start of S6 and all the wonderful Chelsie goodness going on. This story contains no spoilers, but I think the handful of you who are with me on this are not too concerned about spoilers, anyway.**

 **I'm trying to finish this up. There will be just a few more chapters, and that will bring us to present day. I hope to be done with this within the next few days or a week so that I can concentrate on the main story.**

 **Thank you to those of you who are reading and reviewing. I'm very grateful to you.**

 _Windsor, Berkshire; March, 1995_

Charles walked into the house in the early evening and was greeted by the inviting smell of pot roast and the domestic sounds of his wife moving about in the kitchen.

"Hello, love! I'm home," he called as he placed his keys on the table by the door, set his briefcase down, and hung up his overcoat. "Sorry I'm late. I got held up."

"That's all right. Dinner's not ready yet. Everything all right?" Alice asked as he came into the kitchen and greeted her with a kiss.

"Yes, everything's fine. I've just had a phone call, is all. But I'll tell you about that later. How was your day?"

"Oh, pleasant enough. Just another day crunching numbers. But we've had some good news in the office. You remember Penny, our secretary? She's got engaged."

"That's nice. She must be pleased," Charles observed while he got out plates, glasses, and silverware to set the table.

"Oh, she is. Walking on air. I've met her fiancé. Seems like a nice bloke. And Bill from down the hall? His wife's due any day now. _She_ 's fine, but the poor man's a nervous wreck! But what about _your_ day, dear?" Alice continued to bustle about the kitchen, engaging in dinner preparations.

Charles had finished setting the table and opened some wine. "Let me just take off my coat and tie. I'll be right back, and I'll tell you all about it."

He went off to the bedroom and returned a few minutes later, more comfortably attired in just his shirtsleeves and trousers. By then, dinner was ready, and they sat down to eat.

"You said something earlier about a phone call," Alice prompted.

"Yes, I did. I've had a call from Robert Crawley," Charles informed her.

"Robert Crawley? But isn't he in America now?"

"He is. Married an American and moved to Chicago. Wants to start his own school now. He's got two young girls and another on the way, and he doesn't think any of the schools they've got there are good enough for them. Insists on a traditional British school. Since he's not likely to find one in Chicago – or anywhere in the U.S. – he's establishing his own."

"I suppose you can do that when you've got as much money as he has," Alice commented. "And did he call you for advice?"

"No ... " clarified Charles. "He called me with a job offer. He wants me to head up the school for him. Fancy moving to the States?"

"What?" She was incredulous.

"He wants me to be the headmaster. Says I was the best teacher he ever had and wants me to run his school."

"Well! That's quite a lot to take in!"

"It is," he agreed.

"What did you tell him?"

"Well, I told him I'd have to think about it, of course, and I'd need to speak with you."

"Would you consider it?" she asked.

"I'm already _considering_ it … " he answered. "It would be odd, having a former pupil as my boss."

"Would that bother you?"

"Not really. It would just be unusual. He's a bright chap, and he's certainly done well for himself." Charles paused for a moment. "It _would be_ a fantastic opportunity. But Chicago is so far away! And we're happy here, aren't we?"

"Yes, of course, we are. But that's not the point. I could be happy with you _anywhere_. This is quite an honor. Clearly, he thinks very highly of you – and rightly so, of course. It's a wonderful chance. Once in a lifetime, I should think."

"It's true. I'll probably never get another offer like _this_ one."

"Then you should accept," Alice said decisively.

"But what about _you_? Your family? Your job?"

" _You_ are my family now. And I'm guessing, based on his net worth and his desire to have the very best, that Robert Crawley will compensate you handsomely for your services. I'm sure the money you'll earn will allow us to visit my parents and brothers often enough – or even to pay for _them_ to visit _us_. And as for my job … Charles, I manipulate figures. I can do that anywhere. They've plenty of numbers in Chicago, I imagine."

"You'd really consider it?" asked Charles.

"Of course," Alice answered without hesitation.

"I'll admit: it's tempting. He'd put me in charge of curriculum and staffing and other important decisions. He's a businessman, not an educator, so he'd trust me with just about everything. As a matter of fact, I could even make you our business manager, I'm sure. I understand you have excellent credentials."

"I'd jump at the chance, you know."

"Would you?" he wanted to know.

"I would," she told him.

"Well, then. It seems we've a lot to think about."

"Yes. It seems we do."

 **A/N Please leave a review if you're able. It helps to have some encouragement to keep writing. Thanks, friends!**

 **Also, thank you kindly for all the nice reviews for evitamockingbird's birthday present, "Never So Sure," which I posted last week. It's good to know that you enjoyed it.**


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N Thank you to everyone who still reads and reviews. If you review as a member of this site, you know that I can and do thank you personally via PM, but if you don't have an account and review as a guest, I can't thank you individually. So to all you guests who have been kind enough to share your thoughts and offer encouragement, please accept my gratitude. And to everyone who still follows, please stick with me!**

 _Catterick Garrison, North Yorkshire; May, 1995_

"They're here! They're here!" cried Peter. He'd spent half an hour watching out the window for Alice and Charles, whining every two minutes, " _When_ will they _be_ here?" before his impatience was finally rewarded. He ran to the door and threw it open before the visitors even had a chance to press the buzzer.

"Slow down, lad!" called Elsie from across the room, chuckling at her son's impatience to see two of his favorite people.

"Auntie Alice! Uncle Charles!" the boy screeched in delight.

Alice picked him up and hugged him tightly. "Hello, there! Look how big you're getting! How's my favorite not-so-little man?"

"Good!" came the standard answer.

Peter reached out towards his honorary uncle, and Alice handed him over. Charles squeezed the tyke firmly and lovingly.

"Your Auntie Alice is right. You _are_ getting big! You'll be shaving soon. Look at these whiskers!" exclaimed Charles, tickling the boy's chin and eliciting a fit of giggles.

Elsie welcomed Alice with a hug and a kiss on the cheek, and Charles leaned over, still holding Peter, to kiss Elsie's cheek in greeting. The three adults exchanged pleasantries while Peter squirmed in Charles's arms.

Noticing the child's restlessness, Alice took her cue. "Hmmm … Now, let's see if I've got anything in here for you … " she said, opening every compartment in her handbag and pretending not to find the item she sought. "What?! Nothing? No, that can't be! Now, where did I put it? Let me think … Oh, that's right. It was too big! It wouldn't fit in here, so we left it out in the car. Maybe Uncle Charles can take you out to get it. It's meant to be used outside, anyway. If you're a good lad, I'm sure he'll play with you and show you how to use it. What do you say, Uncle Charles?"

"I'd be delighted!" Charles said, looking every bit as eager as Peter. "As long as it's all right with your mummy. Mummy?" he asked, turning to Elsie and seeking her permission. "It's a beautiful spring day. Will it be all right with you if we men go out and play in the yard for a bit while you ladies chat?"

"I think that's a wonderful idea, Uncle Charles. Take good care of my lad, all right?" said Elsie, smiling.

"And Peter," added Alice, "please keep an eye on your Uncle Charles, and make sure he behaves himself, all right? He has a tendency to get himself into trouble sometimes." And Alice winked at her husband.

Holding a hand to his heart and feigning offense, Charles cried, "Me? Never!"

"I'll take good care of him, Auntie Alice!" promised Peter. Charles set him down, and he put his small hand in Charles's much larger one and pulled the hulking man out the door.

Once the "men" had left, Elsie and Alice went into the kitchen, poured themselves some tea, and sat down at the table to talk.

"Now," said Elsie, getting right to the point. "When you called the other day, you said you have some news, and you want to tell me in person. It must be important if you and Charles had to spend your Saturday to drive all the way here just to deliver the news face-to-face. It _is good_ news, I hope."

"It is, I think. I'm excited, but I'll admit I'm a bit nervous about it," Alice said.

Elsie's eyes grew wide, and she gasped. "You're expecting!"

Alice chuckled at that. "No, it's not that. At least not yet. Maybe soon … maybe someday … but not yet."

"Oh, I'm sorry for jumping to that conclusion. I suppose I got carried away there for a moment."

"It's perfectly all right. I can see how you might think that, from what I said."

"Well, then, if it's _not that_ , what _is_ it?" asked Elsie.

"Charles has had a fantastic job offer, as headmaster of a new school. He'll start in the autumn," Alice informed her.

"That's wonderful! What an opportunity! I'm happy for him. He deserves it."

"We'll have to move," offered Alice tentatively.

"And you'll be closer to us, then?" Elsie guessed. "You couldn't live much _farther_ from here than you do now – unless this school is in Lands End!"

"Actually … we _could_ be farther, I'm afraid. _Quite a bit_ farther, in fact."

"What?" Elsie furrowed her brow.

"We're moving to America. Chicago."

Elsie was stunned into momentary silence. When she recovered, she managed to say, "Well, that _is_ news! If you're pleased about it, then I'm happy for you, of course. But I'll miss you dreadfully."

"I hope not!"

"What do you mean: _you hope not_? Of course, I will! And poor Peter will be gutted!"

"Not if you come with us," Alice ventured carefully.

Elsie scoffed. "Not likely! How would _that_ work? I can't pick up and move across the Atlantic! I have a job and a five-year-old son and a family here."

"Hear me out, Elsie," Alice implored. "Do you know who Robert Crawley is?"

"Doesn't everyone?"

"He and his wife are in Chicago. They have three young girls, and they're not satisfied with the schools there. So they're starting their own."

"Must be nice to be so rich and powerful!" observed Elsie with no real bitterness.

"Charles taught him at Eton, and when he was looking for someone to run his new school, he asked Charles. He's given Charles complete authority to choose the staff. I'm going to be the school's business manager, and Charles and I think you'd make an excellent headmistress for the girls."

"Me? Headmistress? But I teach English literature! I can manage one classroom well enough, but not half a school!"

"Certainly, you can! You're the most capable teacher I've ever known. You have the qualifications," Alice argued.

"But what about Peter? He'll start year one in the autumn, and I won't have Joe's parents around to help take care of him."

"This school will include both the primary and secondary years. Peter will be in the _same building_ as you! And you'll have Charles and me to help. The salary is _very_ generous. It's safe to say the money you'll make will open a lot of doors for Peter. And you'll be able to come back to visit your family often."

"I don't know, Alice ... We're settled here. I'm finally getting back on my feet after Joe."

"But you're not, Elsie. Not really. It's been four years. You're not much better than you were right after, and you're certainly not the same as you were before. Peter doesn't even know the cheerful woman you used to be, always smiling and laughing. You've got to move on. Maybe you need a clean break, a fresh start." Alice reached out over the table and covered Elsie's hand with her own. "You don't have to decide right now, but promise me you'll think about it. Give it some serious consideration."

Elsie let out a heavy sigh. "I will. I promise."

Suddenly, the back door flew open, and Peter ran into the kitchen with a kite trailing behind and bumping into everything in its path.

"Mummy, Mummy! Look what Uncle Charles and Auntie Alice gave me! And Uncle Charles helped me fly it! It went soooooooo high!"

"That's wonderful, Peter!" said Elsie, smiling encouragingly. "But please do be careful with it. We can't have you break it or knock down everything from the counter!"

After another second or two, Charles appeared behind Peter, huffing and puffing. "How do you keep up with this lad? He's like an express train!"

Both women laughed.

"All right, Peter," said Elsie. "Why don't you go and see if you can find a place in your closet for your new kite, and then wash up your hands and face, hm?"

"Yes, Mummy!" answered the boy obediently, and he ran off to do as he'd been asked.

Elsie poured Charles a cup of tea, and he joined the women at the table. "So I take it Alice has told you, then?" he asked Elsie.

"She has," Elsie confirmed.

"It's a lot to take in, I know. Heaven knows _we_ didn't come to a decision lightly. Take your time and think it over. But I really think you're the best person for the position, and this is the best position for you. It doesn't happen that way very often," Charles pointed out.

"I appreciate your confidence in me. Truly. And I _will_ consider it. You have my word," promised Elsie. "I'll admit – it's very tempting!"

The three sat in pensive silence for a few moments.

Soon, Peter returned. "I'm back!" he announced needlessly and far too loudly.

"Right, then," said Charles. "Peter, what do you say you and I take our best girls out to lunch before Auntie and I have to head back home? Are you hungry?"

"I'm always hungry! Can we have fish and chips? Please?" Peter entreated sweetly.

"Now, how did you know that's my very favorite? I was just about to suggest it!" Charles fibbed convincingly. He turned to Alice and Elsie. "Ladies, does that plan meet with your approval?"

"Absolutely!" agreed Alice.

"Yes, indeed!" Elsie concurred.

"Then, off we go!" cried Charles, bending down and assisting Peter in hopping onto his back for a piggy-back ride. Galloping through the front door with his rider on his back, Charles called back to Elsie and Alice, "Last one to the car has to ride on the roof!"

 **A/N Please leave me a review to let me know what you think. Your comments provide motivation and inspiration. Thanks!**


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N Just a little chapter to check in with our characters and see how everyone's faring after a year in Chicago. We're getting closer to present day. Thank you for all your support so far. If you review as a signed-in, registered member with an account, you know that I will thank you via PM, but I'll say it here anyway: thank you! And if you review as a guest, I can't send you a PM, so please accept this little acknowledgement as a token of my gratitude. Please stay with me a bit longer until we get to 2015!**

 _Oz Park, Chicago; June, 1996_

"Well, we've made it through the first year," remarked Alice, as she and Elsie sat on a bench near the playground structure where Peter was dashing about with all the energy of a typical six-year-old boy.

"Yes, we have," Elsie said, watching Peter play happily with some other children.

"And you _are_ glad you came?" Alice asked. "I don't mean to presume, but you do seem happier now, much more like your old self. And Peter certainly seems to have taken it all in stride."

"Of course, he has. He's a little boy," Elsie pointed out. "It's been an adventure for him – all very exciting. New country, new flat, new friends, new school … And his favorite auntie and uncle are here with us. He couldn't be more thrilled. And as for me … Well, I'll not lie: it was difficult for the first few months. Christmas was nearly impossible, but if I'd gone home, I'd never have come back. I'm so glad Mum and Dad and Becky came _here_. And it was sweet of the Burnses to come for the New Year. The holidays were rough, but it _has_ gotten better since then, thanks in no small part to you and Charles taking such good care of us. I think you're right: I _do_ feel more like my old self, like I'm slowly getting my life back."

"Good. I'm glad … though I still think going back to your maiden name might have been a bit extreme," said Alice gently.

"I _had_ to. Just like I had to stop wearing my wedding ring and move my diamond to my right hand. I'm not married any more. I can't pretend he's away on training exercises or something. He's not coming back." Elsie's voiced wavered, and her eyes were moist, but she didn't cry. "You were right, Alice. I needed a clean break, a fresh start, a new life. And here I am."

"Yes, indeed. Here you are. Here _we all_ are. Two years ago, I never would have believed this, never could have imagined it."

"And _you_ 're happy? You and Charles seem to have settled in nicely. The school's thriving; Charles appears to be in his element; and you're certainly on top of the business end of things," commented Elsie.

"Professionally, I can be happy anywhere. Money and numbers are universal, really, so it's all the same to me. I will admit, though, it's rather daunting being in charge of Robert Crawley's money! But Charles certainly _is_ where he's meant to be; _that's_ for sure!" Alice chuckled. "I've never seen him take to something so naturally. He just walked in the very first day and took charge, and it was like he'd been doing it all his life!"

Now Elsie laughed, too. "Robert certainly found the right man for the job!"

"And the right woman for _your_ job," Alice observed. "I've always admired you, Elsie. You're ambitious and hard-working, but you're also kind and caring. You're raising Peter well, with the perfect combination of discipline and love. And it's the same with your students. They know that you'll stand for no nonsense and you expect a great deal from them, but they also know how much you care."

"Oh, stop flattering me! You're making me blush!"

Just then, Peter returned.

"Hello, lad! Have you had fun? Are you ready to go now?" asked Elsie.

"Yes, Mummy. I'm tired, and it's really hot!" the little boy replied.

"I can see that! You're a sweaty mess!" his mother remarked with a fond chuckle. "Do you think some ice cream might help?"

Peter's eyes grew wide, and a smile lit up his face. "Yes!" he cried enthusiastically. "A chocolate shake would help a lot! Auntie Alice, will you come, too?"

"I don't see why not!" Alice told him. "Uncle Charles isn't expecting me until later."

The women stood, Elsie took Peter's hand, and the threesome headed off to garner some frozen confections to ward off the heat from the warm summer's day.

 **A/N Please drop me a line to share your thoughts. I appreciate each and every word, and I'm grateful for any acknowledgement that there's still some interest in this story. Thanks in advance for taking the time and making the effort to leave a review.**

 ***If you're interested, check out my tumblr page to see pictures of Oz Park, in the Lincoln Park neighborhood of the city of Chicago, where I imagine Downton Academy to be. The park was named for Lyman Frank Baum, the author of many children's books (including 14 Oz books), poems, and short stories, who settled just west of the park's location in 1891. The statues in the pictures are more recent - that's what it looks like today - but the park and the playlot were around in 1996. Only the Tin Man statue would have been there at the time when this chapter takes place (it was placed there in October 1995); the others were added over the years: the Cowardly Lion in May, 2001, the Scarecrow in June, 2005, and Dorothy and Toto in the spring of 2007.**


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N I'm trying to wrap this up so that I can focus of the "present-day" follow-up. This prequel was never meant to be a tale of its own, and now it's eating up way too much time and energy that I should be devoting to the main story. There should be only two or three more chapters after this.**

 **Thank you to everyone who's stuck with me so far; you've been patiently faithful. I appreciate all your support.**

 _Downton Academy; Chicago; January, 2000_

Saturday night was game night, and this week, it was Elsie's turn to host the get-together at her flat*. Elsie and Alice sat at the dining room table playing Scrabble®, drinking wine, and chatting. In the adjacent sitting room, Charles sat on the couch, and Peter was situated on the floor opposite him, their game of Battleship® in progress on the coffee table between them.

"B6?" Charles guessed.

"Miss!" declared Peter. "E9."

"Hit! You sank my patrol boat!" Charles didn't continue the game immediately, but instead paused to prompt Peter, "So, tell me: how is school going? Miss Ingram tells me you're her star pupil."

"I got full marks on my book report yesterday," Peter reported proudly.

"That's wonderful!" Charles praised him. "Well done!"

"And my project is almost ready for the science fair. I really like science. Mum says I get that from my dad. You never met my dad, did you?"

"No, Peter, I didn't," Charles replied solemnly. "I'm afraid he passed away before I met your mum, and even before I met Auntie Alice. But your auntie knew him, and she tells me he was a fine man."

"I was only a baby when he died. I don't remember. But mum tells me stories about him and shows me pictures. She says I look like him."

"Well, judging by that picture over there," Charles said, pointing to the mantel where a portrait of Joe in his army uniform was prominently displayed, "I would agree."

Glancing through the archway at the women the dining room, Peter changed the subject. "Uncle Charles, why do Mum and Auntie Alice always play the same games? Don't they get bored? Mum always chooses Scrabble® or Boggle® when you're here, and Auntie Alice always wants to play cards or dice when we go to your flat*."

"Well, you see, Peter, your mum is an English teacher. You know how much she loves words, so, of course, she likes words games. And your auntie works with numbers. She likes to play cards and dice because she can calculate the probability of getting the cards or the rolls of dice that she needs," explained Charles.

"What's ' _probability_ '?" Peter wanted to know.

"It means how likely it is that something will happen," Charles told him. "For example, when auntie plays cards, she knows how many cards are left in the deck and how many of them are the ones she needs, and she can guess whether she _probably will_ or _probably won't_ get the ones she needs. And she _always_ wins. That's why I won't play with her anymore."

Peter was incredulous. "All that thinking for a game! Ladies are silly!"

Charles laughed. "Sometimes they are, lad. But when _we_ play _our_ games, don't _you_ think just as hard about where to place your pieces and how to hit mine?"

"Of course, I do! But this is different. Battleship® and Risk® and Stratego® are _serious business_!" Peter proclaimed gravely but emphatically.

"That they are, my boy; that they are," Charles agreed with fond smile. "Now. How about G3?"

"Miss!" chirped Peter happily.

Meanwhile at the dining room table, Elsie peered into the sitting room at Peter and Charles. "Charles is so good with Peter. He's a natural."

"He would make a good father. And maybe he will someday," Alice commented, only slightly sadly.

"Oh, Alice! Still nothing?" asked Elsie.

"No. Our doctors keep telling us there's nothing ' _wrong_ ' with either one of us, but it just hasn't happened. We were already older when we met and got married, and we're even older now. The chances are decreasing all the time. But it's all right. We've talked about it, and we're content either way. If it's meant to be, it will happen, and we'll be thrilled. But if it doesn't … well, that's all right, too."

"I think that's an admirable, healthy attitude, and I commend you both."

"Aha!" cried Alice, placing her letters on the board. "'T-R-I-U-M-P-H!' And I've used all seven letters! An extra fifty points! I might actually beat you this time."

"Pure luck!" said Elsie teasingly as she looked over her own letters and Alice drew new tiles. "Oh, and by the way, I meant to thank you for sending Charles over the other day to fix the closet door. I would have called maintenance, but I'm glad I didn't. Charles and Peter did a fine job, and Peter was so proud to help. You and Charles always take such good care of us: _you_ , making sure I never get too melancholy – our "girls' days out" when times are difficult; and _Charles_ helping with all the practical matters – heavy lifting and moving furniture and the like. You two are a godsend."

"You've had a rough go of it, Elsie, and it can't be easy managing on your own, especially so far away from your family. We're only doing what anyone else would do for a friend."

"Well, I'd say what you're doing goes above and beyond 'what anyone else would do,' and I'm grateful to you both."

Just then, Charles's deep voice boomed from the other room: "You sank my battleship!" Both women laughed.

"Oh, dear! Shall we go and rescue the poor man?" offered Elsie. "I think it's nearly Peter's bedtime. He's going to assist Mr. Travis at services in the chapel tomorrow morning, and I'm sure the good reverend wouldn't appreciate having his altar server fall asleep on the job. We'll bribe the lad with cookies and milk. It works every time."

Alice winked at Elsie. "Works just as well with his uncle, too!"

 **A/N *In Chicago, unlike other places in the US, apartments really are called "flats." A two-story building with separate residences on the first and second floors is called a "two-flat;" a similar three-story building with separate dwellings is called a "three-flat." I'm imagining that when Robert had the school built, in addition to the classrooms and students' dormitories, he included on the campus some pretty nice living quarters for at least some of the staff who choose to live on site. See my tumblr page for a picture of the type of building I'm imagining.**

 **Please leave a review if you can spare a few moments. It would really mean a lot to me. Thanks in advance.**


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N I apologize that it's been so long since the last update. I got distracted by something. Thank you for sticking with me and for all the reviews and kind words.**

 _Northwestern Memorial Hospital, Chicago; July, 2005_

Charles sat by Alice's bedside and held her hand, while Elsie occupied the chair next to him. Alice was resting as comfortably as possible, thanks to a combination of narcotics and sedatives that had been administered to her.

"You know," said Charles, tears brimming in his eyes, "the day she told me, when she came home from her doctor's appointment and said she had news, I honestly thought she was going to tell me we were expecting." He scoffed at himself. "What a fool I am! I never even noticed the lump."

"Neither did she," Elsie reminded him. "The doctor found it at her check-up. You couldn't be expected to know."

"It's all happened so quickly," he lamented. "I can't help thinking … if we'd found it sooner … maybe … "

"There was nothing more you could have done. You've done everything humanly possible," she assured him. After a brief silence, Elsie continued. "Charles," she said softly, "don't be offended when I tell you this, but you look dreadful. Now, please – go and get some fresh air, some sunlight, and some coffee or something. Alice is resting peacefully at the moment, and I'll stay right here. Take your phone with you. I'll call you immediately if anything changes. I know you don't want to leave her side, but you'll do her no good if you collapse. You've been here day and night for a week! At this rate, _you_ 'll end up in a hospital bed _yourself_. _Please_ , Charles!"

Charles let out a heavy sigh. "You're right. I'll go for a walk … stretch my legs. And I need to call her family, anyway."

"What have you told them?" inquired Elsie.

"They know that she's ill," said Charles, "but Alice refuses to let me tell them how bad it is. She doesn't want to trouble them, with all the children. Paul and Emily's newest is just a few weeks old, and Stephen's Penny is due any day now. John and Adrienne are planning their wedding, and Alice's parents are run ragged helping them all."

"The timing is certainly unfortunate. I'm sure they'd want to be here," Elsie remarked.

"I'm sure they would," Charles agreed. "But Alice is right, in that there would be nothing they could do if they _were_ here. Right now, they're more useful to her brothers' families."

"All right. Get going now. I'll call you at once if we need you."

Charles sighed, stood, leaned over the bed, and kissed Alice's forehead. Then he thanked Elsie and kissed her cheek before he left.

Elsie sat with Alice, and after a while, Alice woke, though she remained groggy.

"Elsie?" Alice croaked.

"I'm right here," Elsie assured her, moving closer and taking her hand.

"Where's Charles?" Alice asked.

"I persuaded him to take a walk and get some fresh air," Elsie informed her.

"That's good. Thank you. He's not taking care of himself."

"No, he's not. But I can hardly blame him. He's beside himself with worry."

"Elsie, when I'm gone – " Alice began.

Elsie interrupted her. "Don't talk like that!" Elsie's eyes welled with tears, but Alice's were dry.

"Elsie, we have to face it. I'm going to die. There's nothing more anyone can do, and I've accepted it. I'm resigned to the situation, and I'm grateful for the time I have left, so that I'm able to put things in order. Only I worry about Charles. When Reverend Travis visited, I asked him to talk with Charles, but I don't think it did much good. Elsie, when I'm gone, you _will_ take care of Charles, won't you? You'll look after him for me?"

"Alice – "

"Promise me, Elsie! Please! I need to know he'll be all right." Alice's voice was weak, but determined.

Elsie sighed. Persisting in false optimism was futile; practical realism was necessary now. Her friend needed reassurance. "Of course, I will. You know that. You needn't even ask."

"Thank you, Elsie. I know he'll be in good hands. I just needed to hear it. It puts my mind at ease to know he'll have you and Peter. He'll grieve, of course, and that's fine. Let him mourn. What we've had together has been wonderful, and we both feel its loss keenly. But after a time, don't let him brood or wallow in his sorrow. He must carry on. He's such a loving man, and he's still young. He's got so much to offer and so much to look forward to. I don't want him to miss out on the rest of his life. You know better than anyone what it means to lose someone you love. But you also know what it means to go on with your life despite it all." Alice spoke quietly, slowly, and calmly, but emphatically.

"You're right. I do. And I have _you_ to thank for showing me that. You know I'll do the same for Charles," Elsie promised. Through the open door to the room, Elsie spotted Charles returning. "And look who's back!" she said cheerfully as he entered the room.

"Hello, Sleeping Beauty! You're awake." Charles bent down over the bed to kiss his wife softly before reoccupying his chair.

"I am. Must be the kiss from my prince." Despite her weakened condition, Alice smiled at her husband.

"I think I'll excuse myself now," Elsie said, rising from her chair. "I should get home to Peter. I've asked Beryl to look in on him, so I'm sure he's been fine, but I promised to make him his favorite chicken and pasta for dinner."

"Give him our love," said Alice.

"I will." Elsie gave Alice a gentle hug and kissed the top of Charles's head before she left.

"How are you, love?" Charles asked Alice once they were alone. "Are you feeling any better after some rest?"

"A bit," answered Alice. "Charles, while I'm feeling up to it, we need to talk. We haven't much time left – "

He interrupted desperately. "Please, sweetheart! Don't!"

"But I must! There are things I need to say to you before it's too late. I'm going to die, love. There's no point in denying it. But I'm at peace with it, and I want you to be at peace, too."

"How can I possibly ever be 'at peace' with losing you? You're my whole world!" Charles's eyes filled with tears, and he let out a choked sob.

Once again, Alice's words were urgent, but serene. "What we've had together has been truly remarkable – _enviable_ , even. I don't think many people get to experience the sort of love and joy and fulfillment that we have. The years I've spent with you have been the happiest of my life. I'm grateful for the time we've had, but I'm still sorry to see it end. In a way, I feel I'm the lucky one here, because I won't have to go on without you. But I _do_ want _you_ to go on. I need to know you'll move on with your life after I'm gone. I want to be sure you'll be all right without me. It will be hard for a time; there must a period of grief. But you're a strong man, Charles, and I know you can carry on. You still have a life to live, no matter how bleak things might seem at first. Promise me you'll live that life."

"No, darling! I can't!" Charles was weeping openly now.

" _You promise me, Charles Carson!_ You wouldn't deny a dying woman's request."

"You're not _dying_ , Alice!"

"Yes, Charles, I'm _dying_ ," she insisted. "We must face it. And I need you to promise me that _you_ 'll go on _living_." Alice sat up – still slightly hazy from the medication but determined to extract the promise from Charles – and placed a hand on his cheek. "Give me your word, Charles."

Looking into her solemn eyes, he couldn't deny her earnest request. He nodded weakly and whispered, "All right. I promise, love." Then he kissed her gently and held her as tightly as he could, being careful not to hurt her. Secure in his embrace, she soon drifted off to sleep again, and Charles wept bitterly, having just made a promise he was certain he could never keep.

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

 _Chicago; July-August, 2005_

Alice's condition deteriorated rapidly in the following days, and finally she succumbed to the terrible disease that had ravaged her body. The night she died, Elsie and Peter took Charles home to their flat after he expressed doubt about whether he could manage to go back to his flat alone. Even referring to it as " _my_ flat" instead of " _our_ flat" was almost too much for him; it certainly no longer was "home." After Peter went to bed, Elsie sat with Charles on the couch into the wee hours. She listened to everything he had to say – some of it grave and some of it inconsequential – and gave him her full attention, because he just needed to talk. She held him when he cried, and finally, when he gave in to his bereft exhaustion, she slipped a pillow under his head, covered him with a blanket, and then went to her own room to cry herself to sleep.

Alice's wake and funeral were held in the school's chapel, which overflowed with friends and loved ones. Her parents, brothers, and the fiancée of her soon-to-be married brother attended. (Her two sisters-in-law, aided by their own parents and siblings, had remained at home to care for their young children.) Alice was buried at nearby Graceland Cemetery and Arboretum.

Charles managed to survive the planning, wake, and funeral with help from Alice's family and Elsie, along with some support from friends from school. Once he made it through those first few days, however, he was hardly functional. Elsie had to go to his flat every day to remind him to shower and shave and change his clothes and to make sure he ate. She and Peter managed to coax him out a few times: Sunday services in the chapel, lunch or dinner out, and trips to the cemetery. By the end of the summer, he was ready to go back to work and begin the new school year, but only barely. Charles Carson the headmaster was prepared to get on with his job, but Charles Carson the man was not nearly ready to move on with his life, and those who knew him best wondered if he ever would be.

 _TBC … in December, in_ _Downton Academy, Take Two: It Takes Two_ _._

 **A/N That's it for the prequel. In my author's note in the previous chapter, I predicted two or three more chapters, but I decided I could wrap it up in this one, last chapter. I'd planned to bring us closer to present day, but then I determined that anything that happens between now and then can be explained easily enough when we get to the main story.**

 **Thank you, EVERYONE, for your support throughout. I have three people in particular to acknowledge for their practical help with this story. Geordie Lass, evitamockingbird, and brenna-loiuse have provided invaluable assistance in helping me piece this together. Thank you, ladies, for your time, effort, and encouragement. Thanks to everyone else who has stuck with me, in particular, those of you who just couldn't abide the idea of Elsie being with Joe or Charles being with Alice at all – I'm looking at you, libbybell and Chelsie Dagger – but who toughed it out anyway, because you're nice like that, and I love you for it. Now they're both out of the way, so you can unclench your fists and stop gritting your teeth.**

 **Please leave me one last review. I'd be most grateful. Also, please feel free to send me messages, here or on tumblr, over the next few weeks to ask me how the main story is going. DO keep asking, please! Your interest will help me to write more and to write better. So please stay in touch. Thanks! Love to all!**


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